


House Rules

by ingridmatthews



Category: The OC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingridmatthews/pseuds/ingridmatthews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Rules

Sandy ... Mr. Cohen ... doesn't make him wait outside this time.

He ushers Ryan into the house quickly, quietly, telling him to go into the kitchen and get himself something to drink and not to worry, he'll be right back. He just has a few things to take care of and everything will be okay.

Ryan's feet stay planted to the spot. He doesn't want to go into the kitchen. Mrs. Cohen might be in there, or worse, it might be empty, the cabinets torn open displaying nothing but hollow shelves, everything broken beyond repair and it would be all his fault.

Like at his mother's house. Like in what used to be his kitchen.

"Go ahead," Sandy says as Mrs. Cohen walks down the stairs, frowning at the sight of Ryan standing there _again_, this time definitely not happy about it. "I'll catch you in a bit."

Ryan knows he has to move then, so he shuffles through the foyer, his legs feeling like lead. He pauses at the kitchen door, afraid to open it but the sound of raised voices coming in from the front hall force him through.

Eyes shut, he has to breathe before he can look. One last watery gulp and Ryan opens his eyes ...

To see Seth staring at him, a peanut butter-covered spoon in his hand. He's still wearing his undershirt, but with pants on now and the bruise on his face has turned a darker shade of red, shiny like an apple.

He looks both happy and confused. "You're back." This is the happy part. Then ... "What's wrong? Did something happen?" Seth puts down the spoon and walks over, his head tilted in askance.

His eyes are so innocent, so caring, Ryan thinks he could lose himself in them forever, if only to feed off their warmth. Because he's cold, and not even the heat of endless California sunshine can help.

In the span of two days, his world has narrowed down to nothing but frost.

"My Mom ..." Ryan has trouble forming the words. For some reason he thinks that saying them will make the situation permanent. Unalterable, and he's not ready to face that. Yet. "I ... it didn't work out. Okay? It just didn't work out."

A compromise, and Seth blinks, but doesn't question any further. Instead, he rubs Ryan's arm, grinning. "Then take off your coat and stay awhile."

When Ryan is slow in responding, Seth turns him and jokingly tugs the jacket off, tossing it onto one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island. He steers Ryan toward a seat and the peanut butter. Another spoon is shoved into the jar and Seth slides it toward Ryan.

"There," he says. "Now you're officially part of the household. It's the two-lunch rule."

Ryan stares at the jar. He always hated peanut butter, ever since the time he had to eat it for every meal, morning, noon and night for months, while his mother drank away the food money. Just the smell of it is making him queasy, but he doesn't tell Seth, who seems very content, licking his spoon and plainly happy that Ryan is back.

He beams at Ryan. "Do you know what the two-lunch rule is?"

Ryan shakes his head. "No. What is it?"

Seth settles back on the stool. His spoon waves in the air like a teacher's ruler. "Okay, you have someone over, right? If they stay for breakfast, it's no big deal. And if they stay for lunch, sure, it's a nice day, so you're hanging out and they're just leaving a little bit late. But, if they stay for dinner ... hey, you might have something going there," he says. He puts the spoon down and leans toward Ryan. "And on it goes, until they're there for the second lunch and then, that's it. They're staying." He nudges the jar a little bit closer, his smile as bright as the sun. "So if you take just one bite of that, you are officially a member of the household. Go ahead ... hurry up. So you can stay. Forever."

Stay. Forever, and a sick part of Ryan wants to take the jar and throw it across the room, just to hear the sound of it break. To be cruel and hateful, to see the light of joy fade from Seth's eyes. Because he doesn't deserve to be the cause of Seth's happiness.

Because Ryan doesn't deserve anything ... not even a home. "I don't know, Seth."

"Oh, come on," Seth encourages. "Take a bite."

Ryan toys with the handle of the spoon, his breath coming in slow gulps. "I don't like peanut butter," he admits hoarsely and it's possibly the hardest thing he's ever had to say. His throat is so tight and dry, and his vision blurs until it's hard to see Seth anymore. "I'm sorry. I just don't like it."

Seth face falls, but not with hurt. Cautiously, he edges around the island to where Ryan is slouched, still swallowing hard. Gently, Seth touches Ryan's bare arm, before pulling his hand away in surprise. "God, you're freezing," Seth whispers, compassion radiating from him. He throws his arms around Ryan's shoulders and reels him in close to his heart, covering Ryan with a different kind of heat, sweeter than sunshine.

The tightness in Ryan's throat eases as he breathes in the warm scent of Seth's t-shirt. It smells like the home he used to dream of, and the world shifts when Seth's hand comes up to run soothingly through his hair. If Ryan closes his eyes he can pretend this is how it'll always be; living his life tucked against Seth's heart, safe and never alone.

But even with his eyes closed, the illusion ends when Seth pulls away. He rubs Ryan's shoulder tenderly. "So tell me what went down. Did your Mom leave?"

With a sigh, Ryan shrugs off Seth's hand. He's not about to let himself seem any needier than he already is. He can't afford to. Not now. "It's not a big deal. I was going to move out anyway," he lies. "So, it's better this way. She's not going to be on my ass anymore."

Seth bites his lower lip. He's not convinced, but remains polite. Sort of. "That's one way of looking at it."

"It's the only way," Ryan replies. He rubs his temples, wincing. His head is aching as if a storm has passed through his brain, leaving everything broken in its wake. "Look, I don't know how long I'm staying. I don't want to cause problems with your parents and ..."

As if on cue, the door swings open and Mrs. Cohen is standing there. Her frown is gone, replaced by something Ryan thinks might be motherly concern. It's hard to tell since he's had very little experience with anything like that, but his theory is proved correct when she walks over and gives him a brief hug.

It's nowhere near as warm a touch as Seth's, but the winter he's always seen in her face has finally thawed. "I'm sorry, Ryan," she says gently. "Sandy told me what happened. I know this must be very hard."

"I'm sorry too, Mrs. Cohen." It's hard to meet her eyes, but he does. If anything, he wants her to know that in this, he's sincere. "I don't mean to bring trouble to your house."

She laughs shortly, and in the corner of the kitchen, Sandy is there, leaning against the doorframe, grinning. "Don't worry, Ryan. Trouble has this way of finding us. However, I promise that it'll all work it out. Somehow." A meaningful look. "But we have to lay down some house rules. And I'm not kidding about that."

"Yes, Mrs. Cohen," Ryan says humbly. He looks down again, but inside, a bit of the darkness lifts and something that feels an awful lot like hope is worming its way inside. It's the strangest, most exciting feeling he's ever known. He takes a deep breath, then meets Sandy's twinkling eyes. "And thanks, Sandy. Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome," Sandy replies as nonchalantly as if they were discussing the weather. With a yawn, he opens the refrigerator and bends down to dig through it. "I'm starving. Who wants BLTs? Here's bacon and the lettuce and the ..."

"I can make those," Ryan says quickly. He hops off the stool, pausing at the surprised looks he gets. "I'm, uh, really good at making those."

"Cool," Seth immediately responds. He digs through a utility drawer and retrieves a spatula. Tosses it to Ryan with a grin. "This will be lunch number two," he says meaningfully, ignoring the strange look his mother gives him. "So make it a good one."

Ryan resists the urge to whap Seth jokingly across the head with the utensil, opting to turn on the stove and start up the meal instead.

~*~

A few hours later, the sun is going down over the hills, lighting the poolhouse in thin rays of pink and gold. There isn't even a ripple over the pool and Ryan looks into its depths, staring at its bottom. Wonders for a second what drowning would feel like, then laughs the notion off.

He's not going to think like that anymore. Not tonight at any rate.

There's a familiar rustle behind him. It's Seth, trying to sneak up and surprise him and he smiles, letting Seth think he's succeeding until the last second, when Ryan neatly sidesteps the tackle.

He watches Seth flail in midair for a second like a cartoon character, before hitting the water with a resounding splash.

Seth sputters to the surface, his dark hair plastered to his befuddled face and Ryan can't help but laugh. "Smooth move, dude."

His friend treads water thoughtfully. "It looks easier in the video games." He chuckles, until his face suddenly contorts in pain. "Oh ... ow! Cramp! Cramp! Cramp!" he yells, floundering, dipping beneath water on every other stroke, struggling to stay afloat.

Ryan doesn't bother to kick off his shoes before he's in the water, not even feeling the shock of cold as he swims to where Seth is splashing desperately. He shoots up from beneath, catching Seth around the waist.

"Stop struggling," he orders. "I have you. Just float."

"Ow, ow and another ow," Seth chokes, spitting out mouthfuls of water, not listening to a word Ryan says. He's pushing down on Ryan's head, nearly drowning them both, but Ryan somehow manages to pull him to the side of the pool, where, thank God, there is a ledge for them to rest on.

For a long moment, they stand there wound around each other, panting. Seth rests his head on Ryan's shoulder. "I'm such an idiot," he says.

"Why? You got a cramp. Happens all the time." Ryan leans his head back against the pool's edge, the water lapping his skin and Seth still curled close against him, trembling a little. Slowly, something that's definitely not a cramp is spreading through Ryan's body, tingling everywhere Seth touches.

Ryan shifts with embarrassment, the heat traveling down, settling into a throb right between his legs. Oh, God.

That's not supposed to happen, but when he tries to pull away, Seth clings closer. "It still hurts. I need another minute, okay?"

"Sure." He's really aching now and the urge to kiss Seth is rolling through his mind like waves on the ocean. Ryan stares, wide-eyed at the darkening sky, hoping his friend can't feel the pounding of his heart. This is _not_ good.

"You're going to stay, right?" Seth asks in a small voice. His arms are still tight around Ryan's waist, making him just that much closer to insane. "Because, you know, I might fall in the pool and drown if you're not around. I'm a pretty bad swimmer."

"I don't want that happen, so yeah, I guess so," Ryan responds breathlessly. Seth's mouth is so close to his and he feels like _he's_ the one who's drowning now. "I want you ..." A pause. God, how he wants Seth, but ... "I want you to be safe. And happy."

"I'll be happy if you're here. I know that much," Seth replies, water dripping from his hair onto paler-than-usual cheeks. He nuzzles Ryan's neck, pretending he doesn't hear the responding groan. "You make me really happy, Ryan."

Ryan has to reach up and touch Seth's hair, to make sure he's real. Touching him, to stop himself throwing himself on Seth, kissing him senselessly and most likely drowning them both. "I'm glad. I want to ... I mean, I'm glad. You deserve to be happy, Seth. You have all these good things in your life, there's no reason you shouldn't have always been happy."

"I didn't have you," Seth breathes against Ryan's skin, making him gasp. "But now I do. I do have you ... don't I, Ryan?"

A kiss then, so soft on the corner of his mouth and Ryan thinks he's going to slip beneath the water without a fight. Just melt into death blissfully but Seth isn't letting him go, instead he's pulling Ryan closer and kissing him for real this time. His lips are soft ... shy ... and Ryan never wants it to end.

Doesn't want to change a thing about Seth's touch but desire spurs him to take more, licking his way inside Seth's mouth with his tongue, swallowing his moans.

God, it's good, so good and he actually whimpers when Seth pulls away, his eyes bright, the bruises nearly faded.

"There are kissing rules too, you know," Seth says solemnly. "One kiss equals two lunches."

"That's good to know," Ryan replies, pressing kisses to Seth's cheeks, his eyes ... his mouth. "I want to follow the rules. I promised I would."

More kisses, and they're going to have to get inside the pool house soon. The sun is going down and Ryan wants to see Seth against the black sheets. "And you keep your promises, right, Ryan?"

"I always try my best," he replies. "Always."

~*~

fin


End file.
